


Betrayed

by Officer_Jennie



Series: InkTober 2018 [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Humor, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Multi, Sane Madara, emotionally stunted boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 18:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16180571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Officer_Jennie/pseuds/Officer_Jennie
Summary: Madara and Tobirama were his two most important people. Was it too much to ask for them to get along?Or: The time Hashirama kidnapped himself to prove a point.





	Betrayed

**Author's Note:**

> A short piece for InkTober, though this one ended up quite a bit longer than I expected. Written and edited in one day. Prompts were 'betrayal' and 'kidnapped.'
> 
> Oblivious Hashirama + emotionally stunted Tobirama and Madara. What could possibly go wrong?

The part of Hashirama’s brain that motivated him was broken; that much was certain.

In an odd turn of events, he found himself too distracted by his own thoughts to not do paperwork. A rather somber expression had replaced his usual jovial one, the scratch of ink on paper cutting through the unusual quiet of his office. It was nearing lunch time, and he had made a surprising amount of progress already that day, having completed the ‘Urgent’ pile and moved on to the ‘Less Urgent But Still Important’ stack well over an hour ago.

While the Shodaime skimmed the report in his hands - a request for aid from an unaffiliated village, located several miles to the north. An alarming number of mercenaries had moved into the area and formed a gang of sorts. Though no shinobi of significance had been reported in their ranks, they were causing quite the ruckus apparently - his mind was elsewhere, thoughts mainly revolving around two uncharacteristically childish people currently plaguing his life.

As if summoned by his thoughts alone, Madara stormed into his office at that moment, bursting through the door without bothering to knock as per usual. Papers slammed down onto the desk, scattering a few documents and jolting Hashirama out of his drab musing.

Killing-intent rolled off of Madara in waves, washing over the office, his eyes burning so fiercely in his anger that Hashirama was surprised to see they were black. The man shoved his face up close to Hashirama’s until there were only inches between them, jabbing his finger into the Senju’s chest, punctuating his words as he hissed through bared teeth, “If you ever, ever, make me work with that damned Hyuuga again, I will personally see you and everything you hold dear burn to dust and ash.”

Ever used to his antics, Hashirama gave him his most convincing smile, barely resisted the urge to pat his head - an action that would no doubt get his hand crushed. He hummed lightly instead. “Something tells me you’re upset, Mada. What’s going on?”

Coal eyes narrowed to slits, a sneer curling at Madara’s mouth. “Did you not hear a word I just said, Senju? Has our esteemed Hokage gone deaf?” After a short pause, he snapped, “And don’t call me that!”

Hashirama leaned back in his chair, his smile all teeth as he laced his fingers behind his head. “I’m taking it you’ve still not settled things with Tobira, then?”

Madara’s incoherent sputtering was worth every bit of wrath that would rain down on him later. It took a few false starts, but eventually his dear old friend managed to bite out a few coherent sentences, such as: “There’s nothing to settle”, “What are you talking about?”, the ever typical “Idiot Senju”, and “That ghost has nothing to do with this, thank you very much.”

After patiently waited for the sputtering to die down, Hashirama cleared his throat, preparing himself once more for the conversation he’d already had. With both of them. Multiple times. “You’ve been in a foul mood - foul even for you - for over a week now.” He frowned, leaning forward once more, resting his chin on his hands. He made sure to keep his voice calm, tallying off his points in his head as he continued, “Both of you have been, starting on the same day. You’ve been avoiding each other for over a week, and when you do talk, it’s only to scream at each other!” Hashirama sighed deeply, allowing displeasure to color his face. “You were both doing so well only a few weeks ago, and neither of you are doing anything about this…this thing, whatever it is. Clearly something happened!”

Madara clearly took exception to that last statement. His rather indignant squawk that nothing happened was far from convincing, as was his continued insistence that he had no idea what Hashirama was babbling on about.

In the midst of his fit, Madara suddenly went very still, snapping his mouth closed. His eyes focused somewhere off in the distance for a moment, his voice low when he spoke up again. “What time is it?”

Mood brightening instantly, Hashirama’s back shot straight again. “Oh, it’s lunch time! Perfect! Tobira should be here any minute, so you two can finally talk out whatever-”

He had just a moment to take in the rather interesting shade of red his companion was turning before the Uchiha was rushing to the window, throwing it open and jumping away.

Moments later, Tobirama knocked on the door, not bothering to wait for a response before entering. Hashirama was still staring out the now open window from his desk, blinking owlishly. From the scathing glance the younger Senju shot the window, and considering his legendary sensory skills, it was clear the man was both aware that Madara had just been there, and that he had panicked when he sensed the Senju approaching and fled out the window.

The albino took a moment to seemingly prepare himself, breathing in deeply through his nose before sharply sighing out his frustration. He continued into the office after that short pause, bento in hand, placing Hashirama’s on the desk before settling down in his usual chair opposite him, not bothering to greet his sibling before starting his meal.

Silence hung heavy between them for sometime, the Clan Head needing some time to process whatever had just happened, and Tobirama no doubt still upset he had to spend his mealtimes here instead of in his lab - he missed a few meals every week or so, and suddenly it was all ‘you’re working too hard’ and ‘you’re not taking care of yourself’ and ‘it’s only lunch, Tobira - I’m worried about you.’

Eventually, Hashirama couldn’t take the silence anymore, and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could make a sound, however, crimson eyes sent him a pointed and scathing glare, his brother’s tone all authority and no leeway. “Don’t.”

Though it hadn’t worked since they were children, Hashirama did his best ‘kicked-puppy’ look, attempting to pout the answers out of his sibling. After several minutes slumped forward in utter depression and gloom, lip quivering, he resorted to whining instead - Tobirama’s clipped tone doing nothing to stop him.

“I just want to help, Tobira.”

“No.”

“If you just tell me what’s going on, I’ll be able to-”

“Stop talking.”

“You two were getting along so well just a few weeks-”

“Stop. It.”

“Just talk to me, you know Madara won’t-”

Tobirama finally snapped then, voice dripping with hot anger. “There’s nothing to talk about! Nothing happened!” He huffed, crossing his arms and glaring down at his half-eaten food, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes.

Frowning ever so slightly, Hashirama studied his brother’s face. There was a light pink dusting his cheeks, the barest hint of… Frustration? Embarrassment? Or was that flush from his snapping just a moment ago? Whatever the cause of the tint, one thing was for sure: his brother was hiding something from him, and Madara was in on it as well.

A pained expression spread across his face. “Both of you have said that, but clearly something did happen. It must be something big, since you won’t talk to me about it…” He grumbled a bit at the end, fiddling with a loose sheet of parchment on his desk. At his brother slight grimace, he tacked on, “It must be pretty complicated, huh?”

The dusting of pink turned near scarlet as Tobirama became downright flustered, words stumbling inelegant and fast out of his usually articulate mouth. “No, it’s not- it wasn’t that big of a- there’s nothing to be complicated, nothing to talk about, nothing happened, Anija!” In the blink of an eye, the younger Senju had shoveled the rest of his lunch into his mouth, throwing his now-empty bento down onto the desk before storming out of the office, not even bothering to swallow his food.

As the door slammed shut, Hashirama was left to experience utter shock and confusion for the second time that day. He blinked a few times before slumping down into his chair, allowing himself to wallow in the utter doom and gloom of his life. Was it too much to ask for them to get along? Madara and Tobirama were his two most important people, after all - well, plus Mito. And their daughter. And their currently unborn child.

He fell forward onto his desk, accepting defeat for the moment. He rested his forehead on the report he had yet to finish reviewing, frowning down at his own horrendous handwriting.

Suddenly, a rather devious idea occurred to him, his mood brightening instantly by several degrees. A mischievous grin curled his lips as he picked the scroll back up. He was just going to have to solve this problem personally.

 

* * *

 

A few nights later, Madara was seated at the kotatsu in the Senju Head household awaiting dinner, a babbling toddler propped up in his lap. It was something the idiot Senju had whined about for ages, going on and on about “clan relations” and “bringing families together,” until Madara had snappily agreed to the weekly visits, if only to stop his incessant whinging. The albino bastard, much to Madara’s loathing, had weaseled out of the dinners somehow after only a few weeks.

Madara huffed, gently detangling a chubby fist from his thick hair - ultimately in vain, the sticky fingers wrapping back into his mane within seconds, the small girl trying her best to climb him while squealing in joy. It wasn’t like he actually wanted to see the white-haired demon, not at all. It just wasn’t fair that he was the only one suffering. And that was it.

As Madara nodded in agreement with his own thoughts, Mito walked into the room, somehow remaining both regal and graceful even as her arms were full and her belly looked painfully swollen. Madara went to get up, to help, but she waved him back down. There was bright joy in her eyes as she watched her child turn the fearsome killer Uchiha into a personal jungle gym. “Your hands are as full as mine.”

As she went about placing food on their table, Madara noted the take-out boxes in place of home-cooking, frowning. “What, was he too busy to cook for his own family?”

Mito shrugged. It wasn’t that well-known, but Hashirama was an exceptional cook; Mito, on the other hand, had never learned, and not-so-secretly enjoyed it greatly when her husband spoiled her with home meals. “He said he’d be late, so, here we are.”

The Uchiha snorted in response, wrangling the squirming child in his lap until he could bounce her on one knee, finally distracting her enough to keep his head and hair child-free. After meticulously setting the table, Mito rubbed one hand on her stomach subconsciously, turning to Madara. “Drinks?”

He took a moment to ponder his options - he’d been coming here for years now, enough to know without asking. When Madara finally decided, a smirk quirked one side of his mouth up, choosing to be a little self-indulgent at the expense of his friend. “I believe your husband would be rather offended that no sake has been poured yet.”

Mito’s knowing smile made him grin. “I believe you’re right. He’s been saving some in his office for a special occasion - surely we have something to celebrate, don’t we?”

Madara barked a laugh. They were a nasty pair when together, and they both knew it. “He can tell us what we’re drinking to when he gets here.”

With an airy laugh, she left to fetch Hashirama’s not-so-secret stash, walking towards his home office in no real hurry. When she opened the door and turned on the light, however, she went still, red eyebrows pinching together, eyes hardening.

A kunai had been stabbed into the center of his desk, cutting through the wood, pinning a scroll in place. She checked both the room and scroll for traps before removing the kunai, unrolling the parchment and scanning the blotchy ink scrawled there. Her knuckles turned white as her grip tightened, all humor and joy gone, leaving behind white-hot fury and fierce determination.

She returned to the family room shortly thereafter, thrusting the paper underneath Madara’s nose. He knew better than to question her actions, taking the paper slowly, anger and fury soon overtaking his confusion anyway. In the few moments it took him to read the ransom demand, Mito had readied herself for war, having already strapped a katana to her side as well as several kunai holsters.

Well aware of the terror that was the red-headed Uzumaki when angered, Madara kept his voice low and even as he spoke to her. “Mito, you’re with child. I’m not sure you should be the one…”

One look from the kunoichi had him swallowing his words. He stood up, making sure to place her little girl down gently, before facing the fierce warrior, straightening his spine and steeling himself. “On my honor, Mito-san,” he started, bowing his head to her briefly before meeting her gaze once, “I will return your husband to your side. Alive.”

She stared into his eyes for several moments, her expression stone-cold. It unnerved Madara, having someone so unafraid of his eyes, but he schooled himself, determined to show her how serious he was about her husband’s safety. After a time, she gave him a curt nod. Her tone was sharp steel when she commanded him. “Get your armor and weapons. Be at Tobirama’s in five minutes.”

Never in his life had Madara prepared for battle so quickly or efficiently. By the time he reached his designation, Tobirama was also dressed for war, Mito having caught him up on the situation. He was studying the ransom demand, speaking in a hushed tone to his sister-in-law; his niece was not yet old enough to understand what was being said, but she picked up on moods rather easily. No one wanted to frighten the young child.

Tobirama turned to Madara as he approached, smoothly including him into the conversation. “I know where they are,” he pointed to the bottom of the parchment, where the mercenary group’s name was printed. “Anija was supposed to find someone to deal with them. Fortunately, he filled the paperwork out wrong before giving it to me earlier today. Seeing as I spent a good hour trying to fix it - in vain, might I add - I remember most of the report.”

Madara nodded shortly, waving the younger man on, allowing him to take point. “Lead the way, Senju. Fill me in on the road.”

As they rushed out the northern gate of Konoha, Tobirama filled Madara in as much as he could. His assumption was that Hashirama had went to deal with the group on his own. He had left work early on “urgent business” before shoving that report (as well as many others) off on his younger brother, and had no doubt underestimated the danger he would run into. His main concern, besides the obvious defeating and capturing of the supposed God of Shinobi, was how they had managed to sneak into Konoha, right under his nose, through the Senju compound, and into his brother’s house while his pregnant wife and child were there.

Tobirama steeled himself, cautioning Madara to do the same. This night was going to be a long one. The upcoming battle would no doubt requiring the fullest extent of their caution and skills.

 

* * *

 

The “battle,” if one could even call it that, lasted a few measly minutes at best. The mercenaries seemed completely unaware and utterly under prepared, as well as drastically under-skilled considering who they were holding for ransom. They slaughtered everyone with ease. Afterwards, Tobirama followed the faint heavy-earth of Hashirama’s chakra, still on high alert, wiping the blood from his kunai as he lead his companion deep into the hideout.

When they finally reached the room that held their comrade, Madara paused, glancing at Tobirama to make sure they were both prepared. Crimson eyes met his Sharringan. A deep breath, and Madara broke down the door, both warriors leaping into the room, weapons drawn, chakra at the ready.

Two sets of red eyes twitched in confusion at what they found.

Hashirama, unchained and uninjured. With a bottle of sake. Entirely too chipper for someone who had been kidnapped.

At the sight of his loved ones, the ‘captive’ jumped to his feet, a gleeful sound leaving his throat. Sake splashed out of his cup onto the floor, unnoticed. “See? I knew you could do it!” His bright smile had both his ‘rescuers’ frowning, even more confused.

Sanity at risk, Madara opened his mouth to speak, but found no sound could come out. Tobirama spoke up for them instead, a sneaking suspicion coloring his tone red with barely concealed anger. “Do what, exactly?”

“Get along! Work together!” The Hokage threw his arms into the air, tears filling his eyes. “I bet you didn’t argue once on the way here. Ah, I’m just so proud of you two~”

As realization dawned on them, the full extent of the situation becoming clearer to the two battle-ready shinobi, they both became, understandably, absolutely livid. Hashirama, despite the clear danger he was in, just smiled ever so innocently, proud of how his genius plan had gotten him what he wanted.

After the older Senju cleared up a few points in his plan - how he had a drunken civilian write the ransom note the night prior, leaving the note on his desk before the work day, purposely filling the report out wrong before leaving, sneaking into the mercenary hideout - the other two just stared at him in awe and exasperation, uncertain on how exactly they were going to kill him. Tobirama eventually settled on hissing at him, detailing all of the ways his genius plan could’ve gone wrong: “What if Madara hadn’t shown up at your house? If no one had found the ‘ransom’ note? If I hadn’t read the report, how would we have found you? What if the mercenaries had found yo-did you seriously not bring a single weapon with you?”

Hashirama merely waved his brother’s concerns away, too overjoyed by his ‘success,’ as if completely certain nothing could have gone wrong.

At this point, Madara’s anger had gone full circle, leaving him in an odd state of calm. His voice was even, almost quiet, when he finally found it again. “How did you put Mito up to this?” The Uchiha had begun to rather respect the woman over the years; there was a heavy weight of disappointment settling in his chest at the thought of her aiding in this ridiculousness.

Hashirama’s expression fell slowly. He started to laugh nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, you see, I kind of, sort of, didn’t…exactly tell her…anything?”

Tobirama nearly shrieked at his brother, “You let your pregnant wife believe you were kidnapped and possibly dead?”

The responding plea was nearly silent. “Don’t tell Mito.”

Madara shook his head, chuckling without humor as he turned to walk back home. He was definitely getting a front row seat to whatever torture Mito was going to exact on him.

 

* * *

 

With Hashirama returned home, and Mito’s spitting rage visceral behind them, Madara and Tobirama walk out of the Senju Head household, leaving their traitorous Hokage to his fate. Exhausted both physically and mentally, Madara groaned loudly, scrubbing his hands across his face. “I just want to forget the last few hours.”

Standing next to him, shoulders brushing slightly, Tobirama looked over at the wild Uchiha, crimson eyes suddenly hot with an unknown emotion. “You know,” he spoke slowly, voice pitched deeper than normal, “I could always help you with that.”

Madara lowered his arms, considering the taller man for a moment. His lips slowly parted, a near feral grin full of teeth, a predatory glint shining in his coal-black eyes. Madara had wanted another taste, after all. “My place, 10 minutes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, Hashirama's plan technically worked? Questions/comments are appreciated and welcome!


End file.
